


fallout

by poetrics



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Angst, M/M, Multi, implied Sycamore/Lysandre/Ilima - Freeform, post-holoclip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-07-20 03:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7388140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetrics/pseuds/poetrics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Augustine receives a Holo Clip, and his heart breaks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sycamore's Garchomp's name belongs to the lovely  ryttu3k , I'm merely borrowing it. Go give their works a read!

When the elevator doors opened to the second level with a ding, Sina and Dexio found the way into the lab blocked by Garchomp. It growled warningly but without any menace and a faint voice croaked, “It's all right, Artemis.” 

The shark-type Pokemon stepped aside. 

They had all been in the conservatory when the Holo Clip appeared. Sycamore's face lit up in a way that his assistants often tittered about as Lysandre's image materialized before them, his attention drawn away from the tiny Chespin he had been brushing. After the message was delivered his expression was frozen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting, perhaps, for a second Holo Clip.

Even the Pokemon were quiet, the air around them suddenly charged.

An entire minute passed in silence, then the Professor gave Chespin one last pat before drawing himself to his full height. His voice was firm and steady. “We will devote all available resources now to stopping,” the slightest hesitation, “Team Flare.”

Now he sat against the wall of his lab, eyes puffy and red, an empty bottle of wine and glass beside him. He laughed weakly as the two approached. His voice was hoarse. “You weren't supposed to see me like this.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Sina chided as they helped him off the floor. “See what? We don't see anything,” added Dexio. Garchomp watched them closely as they led him to the elevator. “We'll take care of him,” Sina said over her shoulder as they stepped on, and it closed its eyes and nodded.

When they set him down in his bed, Sycamore heaved a dry sob, his fists balling against his thighs. They sat to either side of him, each covering a trembling hand.

There wasn't anything to say.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the other side of an ocean, Ilima receives the same Holo Clip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Ilima studied abroad in Kalos, it was under the wing of Lumiose City's esteemed Professor Sycamore.

The Holo Caster- one of the original models, affectionately bestowed and carefully maintained- crackles to life in the early morning, and Ilima is flooded with sudden consciousness. He hasn't received a Holo Clip from Kalos in months.

When it cuts out he lays down, blinking at the ceiling, and wonders how long death will take.

 

Death does not come and news is scant in Hau'oli, so Ilima does his best to grasp at what straws he can. Trainers pass through his newly assigned trial and he doesn't snap at them, mostly. Twice he picks up the Holo Caster and hovers, fingers uncertain, before placing it back on his desk. The Professor doesn't need the distraction.

Time scrapes over his skin like a serrated edge until he sees the headline: _TEAM FLARE BOSS BURIED ALIVE UNDER HEADQUARTERS_.

The cut is finally made. Ilima rushes home and dials.

Sycamore appears on the second ring, and he looks surprised. He also looks like hell. For a moment, they stare at each other.

“Mon dieu-” “Augustine-”

A pause, as they sort out what needs to be said. Horror is dawning on Sycamore's face. “I didn't even- Ilima, je suis tellement désolé, I didn't realize- you received the Holo Clip, didn't you?”

“Is it true?”

“It is.”

Ilima isn't aware he's crying until he takes another, shuddering breath. A vice grips his throat and suddenly there are too many words crowding through it. His hands are balled into fists.

“Lysandre is... dead,” Sycamore continues and it sounds forced, sounds like a recitation. The holocast is a poor, flickering substitute for the genuine article, but even through the connection he can see the new lines, the weight under the Professor's eyes. “I'm sorry I did not contact you earlier, I honestly thought you didn't know.”

He can feel the pulse in the front of his face. “He was going to..?”

Sycamore shuts his eyes. “Yes.”

Too many memories are pushing their way forward- a hand in his hair, a deep voice calling him beautiful, warmth, contentment- so he chokes out, “I'm a trial captain now.”

“Oh, ma cher,” Sycamore says, and tears are falling down his cheeks as well. “I'm so proud of you.”


End file.
